


I Want to be a Part of It

by wheniamqueenx



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheniamqueenx/pseuds/wheniamqueenx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this answer Troye gave at the BBC One Teen Awards:</p><p>“Best kiss ever… Um. Probably… One time it was a really cheesy romantic… I don’t really like cheesy romance ever , but one time it was really nice. Because it was in New York and we were up really high and there was a nice view and everything. And I was like, meh, may as well embrace how cheesy this is and actually enjoy a bit of a snog.”</p><p>And also this <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/9opXVOjlWb/?taken-by=connorfranta&hl=en">picture</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	I Want to be a Part of It

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction.
> 
> Beta'd by [colazitron](http://archiveofourown.org/users/colazitron/pseuds/colazitron)

 

The air is crisp in New York City and Troye is in love. Currently he is watching his boyfriend, Connor, half jog half run towards a large panel of glass overlooking the city, whilst Troye, body still heavy with travel and the early hour, is still 10 steps behind him by the time Connor has his fingers splayed and pressed against the glass barrier. It feels calm up here, despite the teeming nature of the city below, and the people meandering around the floor with them - some fixated on the view, others deep in conversation, no one seeming particularly engaged in their surroundings outside of these two things. Troye’s manager Emma has walked off in a different direction, idly looking at her phone but not in any sort of important way, her eyes occasionally glancing up at the view. Troye slept well last night, and the day seems sprawling and long because of this. And New York feels sleepy but brand new, fresh, like linen sheets on a hot day in Perth.

“Troye, come here,” Connor’s voice beckons, and Troye realises he is still staring at the spot Emma is no longer even occupying, watching the light play against the edges of the room.

This sort of dumb-struck, slow look must be written all over Troye’s face, because Connor half throws his head back with exasperation and amusement, before physically beckoning Troye with his fingers. Troye follows suit until he is beside Connor, who places the calling hand on Troye’s shoulder blades, mindlessly moving it in a circle before letting it fall away again. Troye fixes his eyes on the view, squinting his eyes, as if focusing a camera - close and then far away again. He does this till his forehead is physically pressed against the glass,

“So cool,” he breathes into the glass, mainly to himself, but sees the movement of Connor nodding his head out of the corner his eye, Connor who surprisingly does not have his phone out quite yet. Troye turns his head so his cheek is pressed against the glass instead, facing Connor, a hint of dusky pink already beginning to blossom on the pale of Connor’s skin, which means the boy must feel Troye’s eyes on him. Dazedly, Troye can’t help but reach out and follow the blush with his fingertips; Connor turns to him at this.

“Well, hi there.”

“Hi,” Troye says back, trying to flood the word with as much warmth as possible.  Troye feels as though he should maybe be embarrassed about the way he looks at Connor like he is actually the best view the city currently has to offer him, but then he remembers he doesn’t care at all.

“Would it be really cheesy if we kissed right now?” Troye asks.

Connor laughs, abrupt, and brightening the whole of the sky line.

“Yes, most definitely,” he replies, pausing for a beat before following this up with, “which I am totally okay with.”

Troye smiles at this, showing all his teeth.

_ ‘God we are the worst’ _ , he thinks to himself, before lifting his face and body away from the glass and titling his weight into Connor’s space, which seems to cause Connor to suddenly perk up - standing more upright as if he hadn’t really believed Troye was going to kiss him.

Troye ducks his head laughing to himself slightly before meeting Connor’s eyes again with renewed purpose and desire, curving his hand around the back of the other boy’s neck, pulling him towards him as he leans down, eyes flicking to Connor’s lips before swooping forward to press his own lips against them, eyes falling shut. Connor’s own hand is curving around Troye’s waist as he kisses back, pulling away for a beat to breathe out, before moving his other hand to cup the side of Troye’s face, slanting his own face more so he can open his mouth against Troye’s. His lips glide downwards capturing Troye’s bottom lip for a second before releasing it and letting Troye’s lips match his so he can sneak his tongue in, the tip of it brushing against Connor’s. Connor huffs a slow breath through his nose, which is more like a contented sigh, some of the air escaping from the seal they’ve created together.

Connor feels light headed as they continue to kiss, and not just because of the higher altitude, but the way their bodies sway even closer together, warmth radiating off of Troye’s chest covering his own, the way he is not sure if it is his own pulse he feels thudding in his fingertips or in fact Troye’s where they sit hotly against his neck. They keep this up, tongues teasing, but kiss mainly sweet and simple until Connor finds his lips breaking into an impromptu smile, and Troye huffs out the beginnings of a laugh against his lips. It tingles against the wetness of them.

As they pull apart, Troye can’t help but dive in and press another peck against Connor’s lips, then just beside his nose. He is smiling like a loon, like a crazed person, he can feel it on his face. 

“Hey,” Connor says, a hand running almost reassuringly down his face, “love you,” he says, as though it were the most normal thing, and not making Troye’s heart tremble as though it was the first time he had ever heard it, and his veins were alight with the wonder and terror of feeling so much. 

“Love you too,” Troye replies.

Yeah, Troye is definitely crazy in love.


End file.
